The press box, his home away from home. James looked down at the field. Fans scurried to their seats, concessions in hand. The grounds crew placed the bases, hosed down the infield and chalked the foul lines, the on-deck circle and the batter’s box. It was a perfect day, no rain clouds in sight. James couldn’t believe his good luck.

He shook hands with Marty Mullins, the organist, sharing excited pleasantries, before he started arranging all the sound clips and songs. He knew, for instance, that Mike CoAngelo wanted Enter Sandman to play whenever he approached the batter’s box; while, Nigel Hoover preferred Jesus Freak.

That is why he never saw his mistake coming.

As the teams lined up for the introductions, he introduced the New Orleans Zephyrs, and a moment later he shrieked, “And now your Albuquerque Isotopes!” while carelessly playing their inaugural battle cry of the season, Rock You Like A Hurricane by the Scorpions: “Here I am, rock you like a hurricane!” played. Then all hell broke loose.